


sine decorum

by thermocline



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Consensual Kink, Developing Relationship, F/F, Multi, Polyamory, jeff has a cameo, side pieces question mark?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 09:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thermocline/pseuds/thermocline
Summary: “Hey, hot stuff,” Jenna murmurs, bringing Simone’s palm up to her ribcage, across her breasts to her sternum. She feels more confident every second that Simone’s gaze gets darker. “You wanna tell me about how the boys were last night?”“Just your luck,” Simone says, her voice quieter this time. “I really, really do.”





	sine decorum

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW CLOSELY IS MENTIONED, PLEASE LEAVE! I'll wait until you shut the door – okay – alright! Thanks.
> 
> what's up mfs!! this is my third (3rd) piece of polygon fanfic! again, it is smut. again, i am not sorry! the road i took here was really destined to arrive at simone/jenna, huh? tbh, i'm not mad about it. i want to live in the idea i have of how sweet they are to each other. 
> 
> alright, that's enough out of me. enjoy!
> 
> title means "without decorum" in latin.

When in your twenties, Jeff says, the curve of what constitutes a fun night out drops  _ rapidly _ . Jenna had laughed her ass off when he’d told her, initially, but even with New York sliding into springtime and green and gold draped gaudily over every fucking pub, Jenna just – doesn’t want to go out, really.

 

Simone, fortunately, doesn’t want to either. They take the train home together – back to  _ their  _ place, Jenna thinks. The shine of it hasn’t quite worn off yet, but like, Jenna’s never been confident enough to say fuck it and move in with a partner, enmesh their lives like this. She’s allowed to be excited about it, especially when Simone is just as cheesy about decorating and referring to things as “ours” and cooking for her. 

 

Last night, though, Jenna got dinner with Jeff to shoot the shit about sitcoms and stand-up, and Simone had a bit more of an interesting agenda.

 

She’d gotten back just past ten thirty, hair rumpled, eyes sparkling. Jenna didn’t ask, really, happy to let Simone take out her excess energy in eating Jenna out until she was writhing, until she’d felt more than three times the sensation she thought she could in twenty minutes. Jenna was too boneless to really give back, but Simone seemed more than happy to be kissed and whispered to while she pressed a vibrator to herself, shaking.

 

It doesn’t bother her, that Simone helps people sort their shit out, sometimes. Even when those people are their co-workers and good friends.

 

If anything, Jenna thinks, it makes it more fun and forbidden, a secret for the two of them to keep and for Jenna to reap the benefits of. It’s routine, at this point: Simone beats the shit out of Brian and Pat, comes home, fucks her senseless, and then lets Jenna help her unravel how she’s feeling about things. Simone gets to  _ do _ , Jenna gets to  _ listen _ , and they end up tangled together under the flowered comforter in their newly acquired queen bed, happy and spent.

 

Today, though, Jenna’s been on edge since breakfast. Simone keeps saying that she’s gonna tell her about it, dropping little hints. It’s the third time she’s reporting back, since they got together, and every time, Jenna’s ravenous for Simone’s detail, the way she dips her head and lowers her voice when she gets to a particularly filthy part of the story.

 

So once it hits four, and she’s been  _ aching _ for hours, Jenna can’t be blamed for tugging Simone into their bedroom and settling Simone into her lap.

 

“So,” Jenna says, once Simone’s done running her hands up Jenna’s thighs as she balances her weight across Jenna’s hips. Her cheeks are flushed as she looks at Jenna, amused, expectant. “I hear the latest installment of  _ How to Domme the Mess Out of a Man _ was pretty dramatic.”

 

Simone doubles over in laughter. Her eyes fill with tears, hair shaking as she giggles. Jenna pokes her in the side, though she knows it’ll only make matters worse.

 

“Fine, I’ll try again!” 

 

“No, no,” Simone gasps, “I’m sorry, it’s on me!”

 

Jenna scowls at her lovingly, and waits her out until Simone is wiping her eyes, taking a rattling breath in as she smiles ruefully.

 

Jenna’s breath shakes as she inhales. She takes Simone’s left hand between her palms, tracing her life line, kissing each of her fingers just to be showy about it. Simone sobers up immediately, her breath catching in her throat.

 

“Hey, hot stuff,” Jenna murmurs, bringing Simone’s palm up to her ribcage, across her breasts to her sternum. She feels more confident every second that Simone’s gaze gets darker. “You wanna tell me about how the boys were last night?”

 

“Just your luck,” Simone says, her voice quieter this time. “I really, really do.”

 

“Oh, good,” Jenna says, trying to stay casual. Simone arches an eyebrow at her. Jenna slides her hands under Simone’s shirt, smoothing her thumbs over Simone’s hips as Simone settles in her lap. She’s burning up with heat against Jenna’s thighs. If Jenna were to be impatient, to really go for it, she’d probably find Simone wet and wanting if she slipped her panties aside.

 

Simone hums, considering. “I got there around eight, which was early for them, but kinda nice, actually. Brian was nervous, right off the bat. He was  _ cooking _ for Pat, apologizing as he cooked.”

 

“You had your work cut out for you, then,” Jenna says, and Simone gives her a sarcastic look.  But her eyes go soft, when she picks up again. 

 

“I did. I walked into the kitchen, put my hand on the back of Brian’s neck, real soft, and he shut up immediately. It was the best feeling.”

 

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Jenna whispers, and Simone grins, pauses to set her lips just under Jenna’s ear, kiss the surprise off of her face. 

 

“Pretty sure Pat’s choking sound was supposed to mean  _ god, thank you _ . ‘Be good, Bri,’ he said, and then stepped back against the counter. I told Brian to turn around and face me, and he did, and then I just – slapped him. Across the face.”

 

Jenna’s eyes go wide. “Is that –”

 

“Yeah, he told me about it when we set limits. He was just shellshocked. Pat told him to safeword out if he needed to, but he was totally silent, until he apologized again, so I hit him again. Hard enough to sting my palm, you know? The good kind of slap.”

 

Jenna feels the heat low in her belly, arousal starting to settle into the space between her hips. She licks her lower lip. She knows what comes next, to some extent. 

 

Simone’s hand slides back to the side of her breast. “He put down the spatula, put the lid back on the pan, turned off the stove, and then stepped forward and dropped to his knees.”

 

“Oh my god,” Jenna hears herself say. “Shit.”

 

“He’s our good boy,” Simone says, eyes shining. “You could’ve guessed that, from how much he wants your approval.”

 

“I think that’s just who he is,” Jenna counters. 

 

Simone squints back. “I think that’s also just you being you, adorable and a little intimidating.”

 

“Hush,” Jenna orders, but there’s no purpose in it, and she smiles when Simone kisses her, deep and long and lush. It’s comfortable, kissing her, in a way Jenna was honest to god afraid of at first. 

 

(“If you keep kissing me like that, I don’t think this can just be an office party fling,” Jenna had blurted out, catching her breath against the wall of Tara’s bathroom.

 

“I hope you knew before this that I didn’t  _ just  _ want it to,” Simone had responded, uncharacteristically quiet, searching Jenna’s face for a response. “Like, I wanna fuck you and move in with you?”

 

“Oh my god,” Jenna had said, half disbelief and half loving condescension, before kissing her again.)

 

She forces herself to pull away. “Did you and Pat use that new–”

 

“I’m getting there!” Simone protests. “To answer your question, yes. I called him baby when I asked if there was anything he thought he deserved for not being honest with his boyfriend and his domme. When he kept quiet, Pat was like,  _ Answer Mama Simone _ . Brian just fucking melted.”

 

“Wish I could’ve been there,” Jenna says, heart racing, and Simone grins, wolfish. They both know that she’s goading Simone into giving her the next best thing. 

 

“Pat kept his head down when he said it, like this–” Simone leans into her space, pushes Jenna backward a bit. Jenna shudders out a sigh. “–and I knew that he understood. He fucking came to me first, instead of trying to talk it out. I wasn’t about to let him off easy.”

 

Jenna slides her hand further under Simone’s sweater, brushing over her nipple. Simone pushes into the touch, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

 

“We ended up in their bedroom, with Brian laying out, wrists tied, naked, and Pat confined to a chair across from us. He had the perfect view. I told him he couldn’t touch himself or speak unless he was asked.”

 

“ _ Nice _ ,” Jenna says, unable to hold herself back. 

 

Simone flips her hair, pleased. “Yeah, and he was pretty obedient. Brian, though, was a piece of work.”

 

“Big surprise,” Jenna chimes, half joking. They both know how much effort it can take to get Brian off whatever cliff or out of whatever spiral he’s in.

 

Simone pushes Jenna backwards until her head hits the small stack of pillows. “I kept him on his back, like this,” she starts, bringing Jenna’s hands above her head and clasping their fingers together. She brings their faces closer together. “And I leaned in, said, ‘Maybe if you’d just fucking asked, instead of being a self-destroying coward who doesn’t have the guts to stand up for yourself, you’d be having a lot more fun tonight. God, why can’t you just do  _ that  _ right, at least?’”

 

Jenna’s suddenly very, very aware of all the places Simone’s body skims hers. She can imagine it, clear as day, Simone braced over Brian’s body as she berated him, feeling Brian’s chest hitch and watching as the tears start to fall. If she turns it around in her mind’s eye, she can see Pat, white-knuckling the chair, forgetting to breathe and moaning sympathetically in equal measure. They must have both just stared at Simone. Right now, Jenna can’t tear her eyes away, either.

 

“I hit him again, after that,” Simone confesses, against Jenna’s ear, and Jenna pushes her hips up, seeking pressure. “And then I kissed him, no warning; pulled back. I looked at him, told him he was being good, and then hit him another time.”

 

“Oh,” Jenna sighs. Simone slides one of her hands down between them, and keeps talking. Jenna’s blood is too hot in her veins. 

 

“He cried. He said please. I could feel how hard he was, and I was like,  _ oh, god I wish I could show Jenna this. How good he’s being _ ,” Simone adds. She moves to stroke Jenna’s center. “I told him I had to hit him once more, for the five days he didn’t tell us he needed help. And god, Brian just – closed his eyes, and waited for it.”

 

Jenna imagines how Pat would flinch with a phantom sensation as Simone brought her hand down. She can picture it in perfect detail as Simone tells her how she ordered Pat to get up, to help get her off, not letting him have what he wanted. And god, Jenna knows that frustration. For as impatient as she is, Simone has a hell of a patience when she really wants to, usually when beating the shit out of someone who’s begging her to do it or when edging Jenna with her strap-on for minutes on long minutes.

 

(She was sweet, the first time she’d done it to Jenna. Made sure Jenna was okay, hesitant and considerate and a little awkward. Jenna understands, on some level, the difficulty of navigate romantic feelings. 

 

It’s always been easier for Simone to be either vulnerable to her friends or to let her body be this amazing, powerful tool. One thing at a time. Jenna doesn’t mind waiting her out as she parses through the tenderness. Really, it’s the least she can do for Simone.)

 

“And then,” Simone continues, a little nervous. She slides off of Jenna, curling up next to Jenna’s side and smiling like she has this great secret. “I, uh, flipped my body around and sat with my back to him, across his chest, and edged him, for like, fifteen minutes.”

 

Jenna slots a thigh between Simone’s legs, curling to close the parentheses of their bodies. “Simone.”

 

“I know! I know, it’s not  _ that _ saucy, really, but like, are you sure you don’t mind?”

 

“Simone,” Jenna repeats, holding her eyes as she guides Simone’s hand into her panties. She’s wet, aching, has been ever since Simone started talking. Simone’s surprise quickly turns to a pleased affection, and her fingers press expertly across the seam of Jenna’s cunt as Jenna pulls her in for a kiss.

 

“It’s really hot,” Jenna says when they pull apart, breathing heavy. “You should, uh. Keep going.”

 

Simone presses their foreheads together, speaking into the space between them. “I just let myself have fun, let him feel how wet I was against his stomach as he whined and sobbed and begged for me to please just let him come. You know that femdom video we like, with the different hand shapes and movements on the guy’s dick?”

 

Jenna nods, cants her hips toward Simone in a wordless plea of  _ please, more _ . Simone slides two fingers into her, and Jenna hides her face in Simone’s neck, moaning quietly. Simone has hands straight out of anyone’s dirtiest dream, fingers long and slender and palms just calloused enough to be felt. Jenna doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of Simone using them to take her apart.

 

“I think it was eighteen minutes,” Simone says, curling her fingers expertly, and Jenna bites her collarbone to keep herself quiet. She doesn’t want to miss a second. “His face was so pink, when I finally said  _ okay  _ and let him fuck into my fist to get himself off.”

 

Not to be outdone, Jenna reaches over Simone to reciprocate, raising her eyebrows to signal Simone to keep it going. Simone huffs, amused, and goes straight for Jenna’s clit in return.

 

“Pat, uh,” Simone starts, gratifyingly undone as Jenna sucks a bruise into her chest. “I sat down with Brian, after he came, and pulled my arm around his chest, untied him and helped him sit up. He sat in my lap and I made Pat get himself off, oh–”

 

She pauses, eyes squeezing shut as Jenna spreads her wetness, circling her clit in a perfect tease. “I, uh, I told Pat I was going to keep holding Brian like this until he could –  _ fuck  _ – until he could take the responsibility of making Brian hurt as good as I can.”

 

Jenna moves up to Simone’s neck, pushing her jaw aside to bite along the soft skin along her throat. She can last, push herself not to orgasm until Simone’s done talking, but it feels like an impossible task. “I wish you could’ve seen the way Pat couldn’t even look at me, how he closed his eyes when he came. Brian gasped, and I know how badly he wanted to help.”

 

“They’re probably fucking it out right now,” Jenna jokes, to keep herself from coming as Simone finishes relaying the tale. “That’s how good you are.”

 

“Can I–” Simone asks, shoving her own panties down, and then tugging at Jenna’s. Jenna lets her, feels Simone warm and wet against her thigh, feels Simone press up against her to make Jenna’s back arch, make her hips press impossibly closer.

 

“I love ruining them,” Simone says, fond and wicked. “I love ruining you. I love letting you ruin me. I imagined what it would be like, if you took the reins and let them watch, let them see what it looks like when I give in.”

 

“Christ,” Jenna says, brain short-circuiting, and Simone brings their mouths together and speeds up her fingers, and Jenna’s coming, slick and hot against Simone’s thigh as Simone works her through it. Her orgasm rolls through her, in one-two-three beats of her world going black, until she’s shaking, panting, Simone’s fingers slowing down.

 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jenna says, kissing her soundly, flipping Simone onto her back so that she can move between her legs, kissing her thighs. “I can’t believe you ever worried about this.”

 

“Jenna,” Simone sighs, and then Jenna’s licking into her, no preamble, bitter wetness spreading across her cheeks and lips and tongue. It’s not long before Simone’s shaking, pushing towards Jenna’s head, moving Jenna’s hair out of her face before tensing up and warning her, crying out, pussy clenching against Jenna’s mouth as she comes with a refrain of  _ Jenna, Jenna, oh, please. _

 

“Yes?” Jenna answers, pulling off after Simone’s stopped shaking. Simone laughs, shoving Jenna a little at the joke. Jenna crawls up Simone’s body to kiss her again, letting the sleepiness course through her as she bathes in the glow. 

 

“You fuckin’ rock,” Simone says, in lieu of an  _ I love you _ . Jenna knows what she means.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Jenna says, and then lets the quiet of the room wash over them, feels the sweat cool on her thighs. When she lays her head on Simone’s chest, she can hear Simone’s heartbeat slowing down. 

 

Outside, the evening bustle is picking up, car horns and the traffic’s hum filtering through the window they’d opened. Simone curls her arms around Jenna’s waist, and Jenna’s about to drift off when the oven timer beeps.

 

“The cake!” Jenna sits up, excited, fixing Simone with a challenging glance. She’d totally forgotten. Forty-five minutes ago feels like a lifetime away. “Are you ready for the best Saturday night this side of town?”

 

“Absolutely,” Simone says, enunciating every syllable, and kisses Jenna’s forehead before helping her up and out of bed.

  
  



End file.
